Preventer Phoenix
by Zel
Summary: I suck at this uhh this a huge undertaking- my masterpiece (hehe). Features an original character and Trowa romance. PG-13 is for violence and strong language.
1. Preventer Phoenix Prologue

Preventer Phoenix: Prologue By Zel

Homecoming

*AC 195*

Author Note: This is an additional warning: my writing tends to be violent, disturbing, and usually depressing. I also use a lot of profanity but I did try to keep it to a minimum here. I always like feedback whether it's negative or positive but if you feel the necessity to express your ignorance through flames they will be burnt. This is my first fanfic of any kind so be nice, damn it! (God, the story hasn't even started yet and I'm already cussing!) That said, please enjoy!

The room spun around her in total chaos. Men and women in both military and civilian garb whirled around her yelling and embracing, there was even an occasional tear stained face. The festivity did not reach the pretty raven-haired young woman though, who sat calmly like the eye of a wild storm, her reaction limited to a small smile and a slight softening of her harsh golden eyes. These remarkable glowing orbs were focused entirely on the huge screen in front of her where amidst the floating debris of the warship Libra the forces of White Fang and the World Nation reconciled before the watchful Gundams. She was memorizing the moment, imprinting the scene on her mind. Planting her hands on the control panel in front of her, she pushed away from it and stood, straightening her tall but slight frame. The celebration stopped short as she rose before the assembled group. It was almost comical to see the room full of adults looking to the slip of a girl for orders, but every ounce of her lean long body exuded strength and confidence. The congregation became solemn as she spoke.

" It's over," she whispered, her rich deep voice carrying throughout the control room despite her quiet voice and hanging head. She glanced up to stare out at the expectant crowd, tear-filled eyes meeting her calculating gaze. They wanted an eloquent speech but she was neither Lady Une nor Relena Peacecraft. She could offer them this though, and a sudden smile split her face. Drawing a hand through the shimmering black waves that fell to her small waist, she yelled, " We have won the impossible battle against human nature and we can all go home!"

The people erupted once more at this statement, 'home' was what they were all longing for, what they had all fought to protect. The choruses of cheers made the pretty girl throw back her head and laugh from sheer joy. She joined the rush of soldiers and civilians streaming from the building, unconsciously letting herself be buoyed along as she lost herself in her thoughts. 

" They did it", she thought with some incredulity, " Five boys achieved the impossible goal and we have peace. Finally. It has been a long time coming." The human river floated her out the doors and into the dark night. Standing in the cool midnight breeze with her face upturned, she kissed her fingertips and flung her hands out to the stars, silently paying homage to the Gundams. Tears stung her eyelids but were quickly blinked away. The time for tears was later when she was safe and warm in her mother's arms.

"Suria! Hey Suria!" The girl whipped around as she heard her name being cried across the masses. Her hand dropped to her hip and brushed ever so lightly against the handle of her gun as her face settled into the all too familiar emotionless mask she usually wore. Then the crowd shifted around her and she caught a glimpse of the man struggling to reach her, moving against the current of people. A flicker of recognition crossed her face and her hand changed direction, bypassing her weapon to settle on her hipbone.

"Suria", he panted as he reached her, " I thought I lost you." He was greeted with a cold and unwavering stare and an even colder silence. "Ummm, Suria?"

"Don't call me that in front of people, Saul."

" They're too busy shouting themselves hoarse to hear me calling to you. Nice speech, by the way."

Suria continued to stare at him in silence, calmly waiting for her best friend to catch his breath and speak his mind. Saul Marcus was at least twenty years old, making him five years her senior, but he was far less mature. Luckily she was a patient person. He smiled and grasped her by the shoulders and pulled her into a crushing embrace. She smiled into the scratchy fabric of his OZ uniform and allowed him to hold her but never hugged him back. She gently pushed off his chest and looked at him resuming the impassive expression. Saul had a youthful open face with warm brown eyes and an unruly mop of sandy blonde hair. Tall and muscular, he was considered a handsome man by the women Suria worked with who couldn't seem to grasp the idea of a male/ female relationship that didn't include sex. He was her brother, in what she felt was the truest sense of the word, the only person still living to whom she entrusted the secret of her past.

"Listen to me Suria." His face lost its jubilant glow as he spoke, his voice thick with emotion. " Do me a favor and take your own advice."

"What are you talking about?" If the tears spilling from his eyes alarmed Suria she showed no outward signs of surprise or concern. 

" Go home, little bird. They're waiting for you, I know it. You deserve this more than any of us. After a life like yours… well you need your childhood innocence back and your family can give it to you."

" I was never an innocent child. I never needed to be innocent."

" Please Suria, you need them. We all need family. They'll heal you better than I ever could. You can't be a goddamn brick wall forever!" His voice rose in anger as his face darkened and his hold on her shoulders tightened. " Someday that wall of yours is going to crack and all the emotion you've bottled up for the last five years will spill out and drown you if you're not careful. Trust me Phoenix, you can't hide from yourself anymore, not without a purpose to distract you. You feel the dam breaking already, I know you do. Let them help you." 

With that he leaned in and brushed he cheek with his lips, pausing to whisper in her ear, "I will always love you with all my heart little bird. I never want to see you end up lost within the horrors of your own mind. Let go. Promise me that you'll go back and be what you should have been. Promise me."

She choked on the ball that had suddenly risen to her throat and clasped her hands around his neck. She returned his kiss and whispered back. " I promise. I'm going home."

******

"I'm going home," Trowa thought to himself closing his eyes and allowing his mind to wander. He stretched his cramped body out in what little space the cockpit allowed, his long limbs reaching every corner of the tiny room. He longed to return home, even though the location of his home changed weekly, if not daily. He wanted to see his "family", the strange and wondrous group that took him in and protected him at threat to their own lives. He wanted to be with the sweet girl he thought of as his sister most of all; he missed her taunting voice and rambunctious nature. " I miss you Cathy," he whispered into the empty cockpit, eyes closed, smiling slightly.

"Yo, buddy! You still alive?" Duo's loud voice shook Trowa from his reverie, bringing him back to reality. Trowa's deep emerald eyes opened slowly and he saw the smiling face of the American pilot on his vidscreen.His face was lit up like a child's on Christmas morning. Actually, Trowa thought with some amusement, it was indeed Christmas morning. 

"Yeah Duo, I'm fine. Just tired I guess." Trowa's voice was monotone and his face vague as he answered his ecstatic comrade.

" I think we all are", Duo responded, the wear of battle beginning to show on his face. " And more than a little homesick. I don't know about you, but I'm getting back to Hilde as soon as I can. I suppose The God Of Death is going into retirement." Duo sighed and leaned back, his smile returning. " After Quatre throws us a little victory party of course!" He looked at Trowa and winked before the screen blinked out, leaving Trowa alone in the darkness with his thoughts once more. 

He made a quick decision. His hands flew across the control panel in front of him as he set a course for the last colony the circus had been performing on and flicked the thrusters into action. Heavyarms responded sluggishly, but quickly gained power and flew away from the other Gundams. Trowa dodged the mobile suit debris without so much as a glance.

"Trowa!! Where are you going?!" Quatre called to him worriedly, his voice full of concern for his best friend.

Trowa smiled and returned one word before cutting off all communications with his fellow pilots, "Home."

******

"Home." Suria whispered the word over and over to herself like a mantra as she walked over the familiar cobbled street, amidst the bustling crowds. The people were joyous; the celebration of peace was in full swing here as it was in the entire earth sphere. She was worried that someone here would recognize her as she was recognizing them. She was in Florence, her city; she could have walked through this twisting labyrinth in her sleep. In the days before her disappearance, nearly every person had recognized her while she walked down the street. Now she only garnered appreciate stares from the young, and not so young, men enjoying the festivities, no shocked gazes of revelation.

The crowds were thinner now as she left the city proper and began the uphill climb to the country house where she had been born. Darkness was quickly falling, hastened by the ominous storm clouds that had hung in the eastern part of the sky all day. She wanted to arrive before the storm began, fortunately her long legs made short work of the hill and it seemed all too soon that Suria was standing before her own house, a place she had not seen for four years. It took three planes, a long train ride and an hour's walk to get here, but Suria felt that her true journey would begin only when she walked over that threshold. She caught a glimpse of herself reflected in the window and stared at herself trying to see what they would see when the door was opened. 

The girl staring back at her from within the glare from the steadily setting sun's final rays on the glass was nearly a separate entity from the nervous Suria.The well-worn mask of cool indifference had once again taken up residence on her pretty features, completely covering all she was feeling. The silky black sheet of her hair further obscured her sun-bronzed face, adding to the mystery about her. Neither defense could hide the sharp intelligence in her almond shaped glittering amber eyes. Shifting uncomfortably in her high-heeled sandals, she desperately tugged the hem of her short light blue cotton dress downward in a futile attempt to cover her long tanned legs. She tried to smile at her pretty reflection but only succeeded in a pained expression. "Forget these stupid pretenses," she told herself, "they will know you the second they set eyes on you." And she raised her hand to knock on the door.

******

Trowa raised his hand to knock on the door leading into Catherine's trailer. Before his hand could make contact with the door it flew open and the girl herself flew out like a bullet, slamming into his body. She was still dressed in the purple dress she had performed in only minutes before. A loud gasp escaped his mouth as she knocked the wind out of him unexpectedly. Catherine held on to the handsome boy she had come to regard as a little brother with all her might, burying her face in his chest, her tears ruining her stage make-up and staining his navy turtleneck.

" Trowa", she whispered his name and squeezed him close to her once more, trying desperately to convince herself that he was real and not a figment of her overactive imagination. He patted her short curled auburn hair and gently detached her from him. God, she had missed him. Though the war had ended only a few days ago, she had been searching every crowd for him every night since he left. In her heart she knew she never really expected him to be there, but her still heart leapt into her throat every time she saw a young man with brown hair in the audience. But tonight he had actually been there, real, tangible. She wiped the tears from her eyes and smiled up at him, gazing into those fathomless green eyes. Then she promptly punched him in the center of the chest, the exact place her head had rested a moment before.

"Damn you, Trowa! Do you know how worried I was?!" Catherine stood before the shocked pilot, hands on hips, glaring in a way that would have made Heero Yuy proud. Trowa gaped at her. Yes, he had expected a lecture and, hell, it was Catherine so a good amount of yelling would have been involved, but the punch had come out of nowhere. " Where the hell have you been? The war ended three days ago! I thought you weren't coming back." Her posture changed with the last statement, she slumped her shoulders and visibly struggled to contain her tears. " I missed you so much, Trowa" Catherine sighed as she crumbled back into his arms.

" I promised I'd come home, Cathy. I don't go back on promises."

******

Suddenly a noise coming from the front room of the house caught Suria's attention and stopped her hand mid-gesture. Laughter sounded and happy voices trailed from the cracked window to her right. There was the soothing mumble of her mother's voice and the hearty laugh of her father. Sounds she never dreamed she would hear ever again. The sweetest sound she ever heard. Family. Homecoming. "What's the harm in spying on them a bit before I make my presence known", she thought and slid the few feet to the window soundlessly. There were certain talents that came from being a spy, after all.

It was the most beautiful scene she had ever witnessed. Her father, Guido Giotto Jr. sat in his place at the head of the table, a smile in his golden eyes, the eyes she had inherited. His straight black hair fell over his still attractive face though his forty odd years were beginning to show. Julia Giotto, her mother, sat opposite, delicate and beautiful features shining with laughter. The auburn waves that were her hair fell softly to her petite shoulders, accenting her deep black-brown eyes. Julia was descended from gypsies and their mystery was as evident in her as it was in her daughter. They were older, yes, but they were still as beautiful as Suria remembered if not more so to her world-weary eyes. Her brothers, Anthony and Guido, sat together on one side of the table, both smiling. They had been so young when Suria left, Guido nine and Anthony only seven, and they had changed so much. Anthony looked just like their mother, on the short side with reddish curls and eyes so dark they were almost black, but Guido could have been her twin if not for the age difference. His gold eyes sparkled as he too burst into laughter; she was too busy noticing the changes about him to listen to what had been said to make him laugh. His body had changed, begun to fill out, he looked as strong as she had been. They had always shared a bond and she missed him most of all. This was her family, by birth and by love; she could feel her angry armor beginning to melt simply by looking at them.

Then she stopped short. Suria prided herself on her powers of observation, but the raw emotion of the scene had clouded her eyes before she had been able to make a sweep of the room. Her heart stopped as her eyes fell on the last occupant of the room. It was a little girl, with shining wavy black hair and luminous gold eyes. This child couldn't be more than four years old, obviously born soon after Suria left. "Julia must have been pregnant", she thought, the realization barely registering as her heart began again slowly. This tiny girl looked like a girl of her age should, sweet, innocent, and obedient. Blissfully unaware. Suria herself had already learned to hide behind a cool calculating mask when she was five, god it hurt to look at this girl. Why the fuck was her chest constricting like that? Why did her eyelids sting so badly? She couldn't understand the loss of feeling in her legs. She stared at this tiny girl and felt the stirrings of anger and hate deep within her.Her sister, her _replacement_. The bitter taste of spite filled her mouth as she watched the girl. Though she looked innocent there was a great capability for violence within Suria, something that had existed long before she was trained to channel it into art. Her hands clenched and unclenched making fists at her sides. 

Suria choked. What the hell was wrong with her? How could she hate this innocent child, her own flesh and blood, a child she had never even met? Realization hit her hard, stealing the breath from her lips. She couldn't go home, not now, not ever. Her return would tear this loving scene to pieces. The horror of her life would shatter this happy home. There were questions she could never answer, incidents that she never wanted to remember. Could she really subject the smiling family to this? How could she? People hated her; people wanted nothing more than to see her dead, she left to keep them safe but her homecoming would put them back in the line of fire. There would be no happy homecoming for her. And so Suria Giotto made the hardest decision of her life: she chose to walk away and never look back. Taking those steps away from the window was the most difficult thing she had ever done, more so than pulling a trigger, detonating explosives, harder even than killing a man with her bare hands. "This is the last time I'll ever set eyes on them", she promised herself and leaned forward to caress the cool glass of the window as tiny raindrops began sprinkling lightly around her. That's when Guido looked up. Golden eyes met golden eyes and Suria felt her resolve crumbling. 

But she did it. Suria turned her back on the only love she had ever known, tears sliding down her face as the storm clouds that had been threatening to burst all day finally did. Fat cool raindrops crashed on her face and mingled with her hot tears as she slowly moved back down the long drive toward Florence. Suddenly she couldn't stand it, this closeness. She longed to put as much distance between herself and this place as possible. So she ran, sliding her feet from the confining shoes as she flew. Bare feet pounded hard unyielding pavement and splashed in ever deepening puddles on the roadside. She couldn't stop the tears from pouring down her cheeks; the barriers she had erected around her heart at the tender age of ten had cracked, baring her soul to the full horror of what she had done in her short life. The tears in her eyes became the tears of hundreds of women and children, all widowed and orphaned by her callused hand. They burnt her worse than acid and the mark they left was far more permanent as she stumbled back into the city. 

The rain had not dampened the spirits of the people who still carried on in the street. They pressed around the sobbing girl, singing, dancing and laughing, a great joyous chorus slowly crushing the scared young woman. Too excited to notice her tears, they swirled her into their midst, pulling her into the wild wet dance. Suria panicked as they closed in, their smiling faces reminding her of the fanged mouths of hungry beasts. She couldn't see, blinded by tears and surrounded by a forest of revelers. She couldn't breathe, they were killing her! A hand clamped down on her wrist and she spun, wrenching her hand from the assailants grasp while simultaneously drawing a pistol from it's hidden sheath beneath her skirt.She planted it directly in the center of the offending man's forehead and fired. Her panic, her fear, her confusion took over and she squeezed hard on the trigger before even registering the elderly man's face. The shot rang true and clear as it passed through the man's head and slammed into the wall behind him sending bit's of plaster over the crowd. 

It took a moment for the shouts of laughter and exhilaration to turn to screams. Those closest to her struggled to get away, but found themselves pressed against those who wanted to know what had happened. They all fell silent, all eyes locked on the barefoot girl in the waterlogged blue slip dress that clung to her frame like second skin, long ebony hair dripping rainwater that flowed down the backs of her legs to puddle at her feet and mix with the blood flowing to meet it. Her arm was still fully extended, the silver glint of the gun held in her outstretched hand mirroring the mad glitter in her eyes glowing in her remarkably calm face. Her arm dropped to her side and she took a single step forward and bent to touch the face of the man she had just killed, spreading his silver hair across his forehead to cover the bloody bullet hole. Four young men in the crowd took this moment of seeming distraction to rush at her, but they were not match for Suria. She disposed of them quickly, the first made the mistake of coming at her unaided and was immediately knocked unconscious by the butt of the pistol she still had. The others decide to come all at once but they too were thwarted by a few well-placed kicks and punches, meant only to debilitate not permanently harm. The last man dropped after an efficient gab to at pressure point inside the hollow of his collarbone sent him to his knees before her. Suria rushed through the remaining crowd before any one else could organize their mind enough to try to stop her. It had taken mere seconds for her to stop her would be capturers. 

Shouts followed but Suria couldn't have stopped if she wanted to. She pushed her body past the breaking point, running mindlessly. Deep down she knew the route she was taking, leaving the city as quickly as possible, fleeing eastward toward the dawn star. Her feet broke open on the hard street, leaving bloody footprints that the rain washed away in seconds. Through the suffocating darkness she ran until she saw the first light of day on the horizon. Suria dropped to her knees on the dirt path, exhausted, and slept where she fell. Her sleep was dreamless and she embraced the oblivion of it, using it like a shield to protect her shattered heart.

When she awoke the sun was warm on her face and a shoe was gently nudging her ribs. The kicks were soft but persistent and accompanied by a soft calling of "miss" over and over. Suria groaned and batted the foot away. The speaker gasped as she sat up straight in the center of the hard packed dirt road, reduced to mud after last night's storm. She shielded her eyes to look up at the person and saw a young man about her age, made to look younger by the ill fitting nature of his loose clothes. A cart stood behind him loaded with fresh produce. He was headed west to market in Florence. He stooped to help her off the ground.

" Are you all right?" His lips were bloodless and his face pale with shock, " I thought you were dead!" He stood her on her bloody feet and blushed when she immediately fell against his chest. Looking over her shoulder he saw something shiny lying in the path. Squinting, he made out the shape. A gun. This girl had been carrying a weapon. 

Suria felt the boy stiffen from her rather compromising position against his chest. "He's seen it" she thought her own body tensing to flee once more but instead he surprised her by pushing her away

" I won't ask, just tell me if you'll be okay on your own." There was a pleading in his words and a deep sadness in his eyes. Her own eyes widened as she realized what he was thinking. Suicide, it was a logical jump after all. Then sad little girl with a gun trying to end her own suffering. Perhaps he though her lover had been killed in the war that had concluded only four days ago, or even a father, she was young enough.

Gathering herself Suria kicked the weapon as far away as she could with her wounded foot. Looking into the boy's startled eyes she smiled slightly, " I'll be just fine she said, surprising herself at little as she repeated it. "Fine"


	2. Preventer Phoenix Chapter 1

Preventer Phoenix: Part One

TBA

*AC 198*

Disclaimer: Oops! I forgot the disclaimer in the prologue. Hey I'm new at this, I have an excuse. Anyway Gundam Wing belongs to its very lucky creators, not me. At least not yet. But more on my evil master plan later. For now I'm just a poor high school student, if you sue me all you're gonna get is loose change and pocket lint. Suria, Saul, Rowan, Gabriel and the Giotto family are my creations but if you feel the necessity to use them for something just ask me first.

Notes: I'm really afraid that I made Catherine look weak in this part; I think I made her too emotional. I'm trying my hardest to avoid rampant OOCness. Oh well, tell me what you think about it or anything else or just bitch at me for my glaring grammatical errors-whatever you want. E-mail me at [kali296@hotmail.com][1] I'm attention starved and I crave validation for my existence. That said, enjoy!

PS _Italics show flashback_

The room was nearly pitch black, save for the unhealthy gleam from a single computer screen. The light was enough to illuminate the bodies of three young men in a strange uniform sprawled on the floor.Suria Giotto sat in the darkness of the small room, her face sickly looking in the faint glow of the computer screen in front of her. Fingers flying across the keyboard, her eyes remained locked on the screen, bobbing over the fleeting columns of numbers, searching for a pattern. Her fingers stopped their frantic movement as a smile spread across her face. A few determined keystrokes later she found herself presented with all the information she was looking for. Instead of popping a disk into the computer Suria sat back and cracked her neck, closing her eyes. When they opened all traces of merriment was gone replaced by a completely focused glare. With that she began to read the information, scrolling the pages down as quickly as she could grasp the words on the screen. Nearly half an hour passed while she sat there motionless save for the infrequent blinking, silently absorbing everything she could get her hands on. Every molecule of her body was tuned into the task at hand, unfortunately her total focus made her forget the outside world, which was about to come crashing back in on her. 

"Hey, you in there, why's this door locked?"

"Fuck" Suria whispered, cursing herself for forgetting to keep track of time. She had meant to slip out right before the guard was changed and take advantage of the exhaustion of the soldiers who had been on since dusk. Sadly she had remained engrossed in her work for too long and the replacements for the three men she had killed were already here.

"Hey what's going on in there? My security clearance isn't working. Open this door now, privates!" 

'Shit, it had to be a commanding officer' she thought as she hurriedly tried to re-focus on what she was doing. 'I'm so close. I can't just stop now.' She raised her hand to her mouth and began biting her knuckle trying to concentrate even as she heard the man outside calling for others. So close, only a few more minutes and she would have everything she needed to know…but if she didn't get out of here alive all she already knew would go to waste. The door was being forced now, a small explosion sounded in the hallway and she heard the locking mechanism release.

"Fuck!" she yelled resignedly and spun quickly in the chair to greet her dozen attackers, gun already in hand. The first three went down easy, taking each one out with a single shot to the forehead. Unfortunately she was now out of bullets, the other three having been used to kill the guards on duty last night. Angrily, she simply threw the now useless weapon into the crowd of soldiers. The idiots were all trying to press into the tiny room at once causing great confusion. This disorder was in her favor and she took full advantage of it by running full speed into the mass, shocking quite a few as she did so. Letting her long legs carry her she flew down the narrow corridor, only half aware of the sirens echoing across the entire compound. Gunshots followed her hitting the walls with a barrage of bullets and spraying her with a mixture of paint and plaster. She hardly felt the few lucky shots that hit her, ignoring the blood that was now seeping through her jacket at the right shoulder and lower on her right arm. A third shot caught her hard in the upper chest as she rounded a corner. The bullet passed straight through as her eyes went wide in surprise and pain. Seconds later she burst out into to pink light of dawn, hand clutching her wound. 'A few more feet and I'll be safely in the forest where at least I'll have a chance.' The doors flew open behind her once more and the loud popping of gunfire filled her mind once more. Panting heavily, she entered the dense trees and almost immediately the firing stopped. Still she did not slow for nearly ten more minutes she ran as fast as her quickly failing body could. When she finally stopped she leaned against a tree and pulled a communicator from her pocket. Shakily she punched a few buttons and slid down the tree to sit at the bottom, her blood leaving a dark trail on the bark. 

"This is Preventer Phoenix calling Preventer Water" she said her voice strong despite her condition. 

"What's wrong?" a concerned woman's voice called back. Suria suddenly went into a coughing spasm, her whole body jerking, aggravating the wounds, which had suddenly become very painful. When she removed her hand from her mouth a sickening mixture of spit and blood covered her palm.

"Sally, I need help and I need it fast."

******Trowa lay on his back sleeping in the semi-darkness of his trailer; or rather he pretended to lie there sleeping. In reality he was merely waiting for a decent hour to leave his mostly unfurnished room. Sighing to himself he turned on to his side and glanced out the single window at the slight lightening in the Eastern sky. It was five thirty, maybe six in the morning and he hadn't slept at all. God, he was exhausted and yet for some unseen reason he couldn't seem to sleep. 'Yeah right' he thought to himself bitterly 'You know exactly why you can't sleep.' Fleeting images entered his mind, the deaths of hundreds of men, all his fault… Restlessly he turned over once more and punched his pillow hard letting go of some of his emotions with that hopeless gesture. His nights were filled by these memories, if it wasn't death attacking his subconscious it was vague memories of unbearable cold and loneliness, the emptiness of his drift through space. The nightmares were unbearable, it seemed like every time he closed his eyes those unbidden memories filtered into his brain. 

"Every goddamn time I close my eyes …" Trowa was surprised to hear his own whisper break the silence weighing heavily on the room. The sleepless nights were beginning to catch up with him; he hadn't realized he had even spoken aloud. 'I need rest. I need to be able to close my eyes without seeing another helpless man die!'

A sharp buzz shook him from his thoughts instantly, dispelling all the sleepy fog that filled his brain. Swinging his legs out of bed he quickly strode barefoot across the cool floor to the phone and flicked the screen on to be greeted by a familiar woman's face framed in honey colored hair. He sat before the screen in a while she began to speak, his warm bare skin shrieking in protest as his back came in contact with the freezing metal chair.

" Hello Trowa, it's been a while." Sally Po looked at the shirtless Gundam pilot as he settled into a chair before the phone. She studied his handsome face for a sign of, well anything; Trowa wasn't exactly the most open person in the world. No luck there, his beautiful green eyes were devoid of emotion as usual, not even a flicker of recognition crossed them. 

" What's happened?" Trowa dispassionate reply filtered through her hand held device, crackling slightly.

" No need for pleasantries then I take it. I need your help; you're the only Preventer we have in the area right now and I honestly don't know if I could trust many others with this information anyway. We had an operative retrieving information from a newly established terrorist base just outside the city of Seville, where you are currently located, correct?" He nodded and waited for her to finish. " She got the information alright but was wounded badly during her escape. She was able to describe her wounds to me before I left her, she needs immediate medical attention. Three gunshot wounds: two to the upper right arm and another one that slammed right through the left side of her chest. It's high but it may have hit something vital. Her location is somewhat vague; she headed almost directly east for approximately one mile from the base. I'll transfer those coordinates to you now…" There was a brief silence as Trowa mentally recorded the numbers. " The information she has is vital to maintaining peace between the Earth and the colonies, please for the sake of the peace we all fought so hard to protect, help her." Sally pleaded with the boy she had known for the past two and a half years, only too aware that she sounded like she was begging. He looked her in the eyes and she was once again startled by the emptiness she saw. 

"Will they be looking for her as well?" Trowa's monotone crackled trough her communicator once more and Sally felt relief spread through her. If Phoenix died she would never be able to forgive herself. 

"Of course, but I trust your skills are far above theirs, they won't get to her before you do." She smiled at him warmly feeling a depth of gratitude toward him. " Her name is Phoenix. Thank you."

"It's my job." Trowa reached out of sight and her screen winked out into darkness. " I meant it" Sally sighed to no one in particular, staring at the blank piece of metal and plastic in her hand.

Trowa dressed quickly and jumped onto his motorcycle, glad for the speed of the vehicle as he sped further east of the city deeper into the dense forest where the circus was camped, heading for the dying girl. ******

She couldn't remember how long she had been sitting there beneath the tree; time passed strangely when you slipped in and out of consciousness without warning. Only her ragged breathing interrupted the silence of the forest. The rasping echoed and filled her ears, making her feel that with each breath was brought closer to her death. The ancient tree cast shadows across her calm face as she turned it upward to catch the rays of the steadily rising sun. This tree had been here for hundreds of years before she was born and would be here long after she was gone. In the eyes of this tree her life had been only a blink of an eye, without the slightest impact. It was surprising how looking at a simple thing like a tree could give a person perspective on their own life.

Suria's head slipped forward again to hit her chest; she was too weak to hold it up anymore. It was even harder to breathe from this position, her lungs labored hard as her eyes slid easily shut. She thought she heard the roar of a far off engine through her cotton filled ears but it disappeared as soon as she was able to identify it. Her hand slid to the last weapon she had, drawing the delicate but deadly knife from her waistband. She wasn't going to slip quietly into the darkness, not without a fight anyway. It took an incredible amount of effort to complete that motion, pain lancing through her body. A little more blood seeped through her shirt staining her black hair a dark purple-red. Strands of her hair stuck to the sap-covered tree as it bled slowly with her.

******

Trowa cut the engine and leapt off his gleaming machine, leaving it standing in the center of the small clearing and began walking toward the coordinates Sally had given him with a small bag in hand. After a few minutes of searching he found what he was looking for, a telltale drop of blood, followed by others, leading him to the girl she had called Phoenix. The treasure at the end of the hunt didn't look too good. She was partially propped up on a thick tree trunk, her head resting on her chest. Her shining hair fell across her face thus hiding it from his sight. Her long legs in their baggy khaki pants were splayed out in the early morning sunshine, her gray-green tank top and loose preventer's jacket stiff and dark with dried blood. He made his way over to where she sat, dropping to his knees in front of her to gain better access to her wounds. When he silently lifted the sheet of hair that hid her face he was startled by the beauty and youth he found, it took him a moment to remember what he was doing. Leaning over her incredibly still body, he reached a hand to slide the jacket from her frame. 

Suddenly something sharp pressed through the fabric of his shirt and settled on the hard muscle of his stomach. He returned his eyes to the girl's face without letting go of the jacket. Her half closed ferocious amber eyes met his as she spoke.

"Who are you?" Her voice was weak but demanding as she put a little more pressure on the knife, scratching him enough to draw blood. She was proving to him that she would use it.

"If you must call me something, my name is Trowa Barton," he replied in his deep baritone.

"Who sent you here?"

"Sally Po." She relaxed instantly, pulling her arm back and dropping her knife on the ground. He could see how weak she was, the labor of holding the knife to his body was enough to quicken her shallow breathing. She swallowed hard as he finished peeling off her stained jacket and got a clear look at the damage. Neither of the two shots to her upper right arm was life threatening but a bullet was still embedded in one. The third was a complete mess. At least the bullet had come all the way through, meaning it wasn't lodged in a vital organ but from the way she was breathing she may have had a punctured lung. Though by no means a surgeon, Trowa's medical knowledge was a little known fact. Trowa slipped his hand into the bag he brought with him and extracted several bandages and a small bottle of antiseptic. Without warning her he dosed the raw hole with its contents, drawing a yelp and harsh intake of air from his patient. When he looked up he saw her eyes squeezed shut and her mouth thrown open in anguish, her breath becoming hoarse panting. He continued in his task cleaning and bandaging all her wounds. 

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice tiny now, a small smile playing on her lips. Her eyes remained shut, her chest barely rising with each ragged breath. 

"We have to get you to a hospital, I'm no doctor." Trowa stood and bent down to help her to her feet. 

"No!" The volume and intensity of her voice startled several birds that shot into the air like rockets. Her golden eyes snapped open and she struggled to raise herself off the ground without his help, pushing him off of her. She stood in front of him hunched slightly for a moment before composing herself enough to draw herself to her full height. To his surprise she was staring him right in the eyes, her gleaming, desperate gaze unnerving. " When they don't find a body out here they'll look in the hospitals first. I can't go there, I'll be an easy target strapped to a hospital bed."

"You'll most likely die if you don't get some decent medical attention."

"Please." Her voice was soft and childlike, pleading; it didn't suit her at all. Still if she was intent on this Trowa wouldn't force her into anything. He looked her in the eye and saw her desperation but also her strength, maybe she would live through this. Her eyes were incredible he felt himself getting lost, drowning in a sea of molten gold. They stood there a moment longer communicating with their eyes, each sizing the other up, when a snapping twig interrupted them. 

Trowa wheeled around to see four men in unfamiliar uniform all pointing guns at them. Mentally chastising himself for losing his focus he sent his body into action before the gunfire began. Hoping to draw their fire from the injured Phoenix, he darted to the right and launched himself into the air, traveling in a graceful arc while spinning over their attacker's heads. A trail of bullets followed him, shattering the serenity of the forest. He landed behind them kicked the nearest man's gun into the air before sending him to the ground with an efficient punch. The man's gun fell perfectly into his outstretched hand and the other three were down before they knew what hit them. For insurance he shot the last man where he lay in the grass.

"Thank you, again," came the voice from the other side of the clearing, "You've been hit." She pointed to his left leg where blood was indeed beginning to blossom, her hand shaking despite her conscious effort to still it. She walked toward him slowly, dragging her bloodstained jacket on the ground behind her, each step a monumental effort. She reached out for him and fell against him, her eyes closed as darkness took over. He hugged her to his body and lifted her off the ground to lie in his arms. She made no movement except for the almost unperceivable rise and fall of her chest as he walked quickly to his parked motorcycle. It took a moment for him to arrange the unconscious girl behind him so she would stay firmly in place while he rode. The gunshots would draw others quickly so Trowa moved as rapidly as he could without hurting her anymore. With some fear he saw that the bandages on her chest were already getting pink. He sat in front of her and drew her body forward to lean against him, pulling her arms around his waist, her hand still clutching her coat as if her life depended on it, as he started the machine and flew from the forest toward home.

******

Catherine was roaming around the camp with purpose, searching for any sign of her little brother. So far her hunt had been fruitless, no one had seen him all day. He left without notice, again! Sometimes he aggravated her so much… yet in the end she could never remain angry with him. She should have gotten used to his frequent disappearances during the wars, but there was something about this morning that scared her more than any of the others. Peace meant there was no reason for him to just leave like this, if he was gone again…was the peace only a memory, too? Call it women's intuition if you will, but Cathy knew something was wrong from the moment she woke up that morning. Awaking from a fitful sleep in a cold sweat she had dashed from her bed to pound on Trowa's door, calling to him frantically. When she realized he wasn't there her fear grew but at the same time she was able to regain some of her sanity, calming down enough to note his bike was missing too.

"Hey, Catherine! You lookin' for Trowa?" One of her burly colleagues yelled to her from the entrance of the big tent. He was too far in the shadows for her to make an ID, but judging from his physique, or lack of it, he was one of the animal trainers her brother worked with for the lion act.

"Yes. Have you seen him this morning?"

" He blew out of here on that bike before dawn, passed my trailer and woke me up. Damn motorcycle. I can hear that fucking thing halfway across camp. Hasn't shown up to go over the act yet either, not that he needs the practice. Never seen that kid make a mistake, he's amazing…hey! Where are you going?" 

"Nowhere. I've just got some things to do, especially if my baby brother decided to take a day off!" she tossed causally over her shoulder, smiling as she strode away from the man quickly. It took all her self-control to not break into a dead out sprint for home. She had stopped listening when he told her that Trowa had left without telling anyone. These were his old tricks all right; her stomach twisted itself into a knot of dread and she felt silent tears begin sliding down her face. She finally saw Trowa's trailer and ran the final distance to it, ignoring shouts from her co-workers. She reached the door and jerked it open hard enough for the old hinges to shriek in protest and shut it behind her with a reverberating slam that shook the tiny room.

"Less than a year," she whispered sliding down the door to sit in a ball on the floor hugging herself. She sat there for a minute trying to control the sobs that shook her lean body. "Why Trowa?" she asked herself quietly between gasping cries. "Why do you have to involve yourself again? Haven't you already done you part? When will it be someone else's turn?!"Pointless questions, every one of them. She had thought them a thousand times before, waiting, praying, hoping against hope that he would be lucky again and come home to her alive and not in a casket. Or worse that she wouldn't even get that, a final farewell to the only family she had in this world. But feeling this way would do nothing for her quiet brother, she would remain strong for him.

Taking a shaky breath she stood and wiped the tears from her eyes. She stumbled over to the wall to look in the small mirror that served as the only decoration on the walls of her brother's room and surveyed the damage her crying jag had caused. Her eyes were red rimmed and her cheeks showed visible tear trails but otherwise there was no evidence. She plastered on a fake but convincing grin and ran a hand through her short curls. Straightening her t-shirt, she turned and took a deep breath moving to the door, when it burst in suddenly and knocked her back against Trowa's bed in shock. She smiled in relief and reached out for the tall figure in the doorway, when she realized with sudden clarity that her brother was not alone.

Trowa stood in the doorway, a bloody girl lying in his arms, her head limply rolling against his chest as Trowa steeped toward Catherine. 

"Oh my God," she breathed looking at the girl while her brother laid her out on his bed gently. Her early relief at having Trowa back was replaced with guilt when she saw her young face. The girl was way too pale. "Trowa…what the hell happened to her?" The pretty young woman reminded Catherine of Trowa's friend Heero when her brother had brought him home years before. Catherine reached out a shaking hand to touch the girl's face but Trowa grasped her wrist and pulled her around to face him before she made contact. 

"Get Rowan." 

"I don't think Rowan can handle this, Trowa. She needs to be in a hospital where they can look after her. We just don't have the equipment."

" Catherine, we don't have a choice." Trowa's voice remained unfeeling but his face softened considerably. "Please Cathy."

"Alright. I'll hurry." Catherine called her consent over her shoulder as she sprinted for the door, running hard to Rowan's trailer. Rowan was their doctor, nurse, physical therapist, midwife and general miracle worker rolled into one. Everyone in the circus counted on the woman to cure just about any aliment they contracted. When Catherine had returned with an amnesiac Trowa, Rowan had done her best to help him and succeeded in treating all his physical injuries, lamenting that she could do nothing for his shattered mind. She had yet to let anyone down but this was way more than a virus or a broken arm. And that poor girl, there was just too much blood… Catherine erased the images from her mind and ran on until she reached Rowan's home.

"Rowan! Rowan, I need your help!" Catherine threw open the door without waiting for a reply and found herself looking down at the short elderly woman who stared at her grimly with deep blue eyes that radiated intelligence. Rowan's long gray hair was pulled back from her strong, wrinkled face and twisted into a bun. The lines on her face were ancient; they looked as though they'd been carved there, deep and painful.

"Catherine I expect better manners from you!" she scolded but there was concern behind the sternness of her voice. "Child, what's wrong? That brother of yours hurt himself?"

"No," Catherine panted leaning on the doorframe. "It's a girl he brought back." Rowan raised an eyebrow questioningly at this comment, but Catherine ignored the old woman's implication. "She's bleeding all over the place and…Oh, God Rowan; you have to help her quick!" Catherine grabbed the old woman's arm and felt tears forming in her eyes once more.

" Hush girl! I have to get my things. What happened to her?"

Catherine regained her composure, followed the woman inside and told her what she remembered.

"She had a lot of blood on her clothes but Trowa bandaged her wounds pretty well from what I could see. He didn't tell me how she got that way…which probably means she was involved in something nasty. Gunshot wounds, maybe. Probably. She was pale, too pale." Cathy shuddered involuntarily at the memory.

"Lets hurry back then. I presume she's in your brother's trailer?"

"Yes."

"Alright. Let's hope Trowa did a good job."

The two women made they way to Trowa's trailer, going much slower this time around, Rowan leaning heavily on Catherine's arm. Almost bitterly and certainly not for the first time that day Catherine found herself wishing that the camp was less spread out.

******

Suria let herself become enveloped in the warm healing glow of her dream world, slipping in and out of reality with ease. She scarcely noticed when the dull roar of the motorcycle beneath her stopped abruptly. She barely felt her heavy body being lifted painfully off the machine by strong arms, resting her head against a broad chest. The distant voices echoed and became distorted when they entered her ears, sounding as though they came from very deep under water. They seemed to be arguing: terse words and shocked exclamations. Waving, deformed faces swam into view and became sharp before receding back into the distance: a beautiful auburn haired girl, the boy who saved her. All that was happening to her body took a backseat to what was happening in her mind. 

A small girl lay on a metal table in the center of the room, tubes and wire running from her body to various bits of machinery lined up against the walls. She stared silently at the television screen imbedded in the white painted ceiling, blinking slowly and unconsciously wetting her lips with her small pink tongue while images flashed across her line of vision. Her soft black hair glistened in the harsh light and her golden eyes shone unhealthily. At ten, Suria Giotto was easily recognizable.

Gabriel stared at the tiny girl from a glass windowed control booth fifty feet to Suria's right with glazed dark blue eyes, trying to keep himself awake. He wasn't exactly succeeding. His dark haired head slipped forward and crashed into his chest, spilling his coffee down his shirt in the process.

"Shit" Gabriel yelled in pain as he jerked awake. Suria burst into laughter, her youthful crystal voice twinkling through the speakers mounted close to overhead.

"Shut up Suria!" Gabriel spat out half angrily, half jokingly. He was happy to hear her laughter; sometimes the sweet girl was far too quiet for her own good but when she was in a good mood the child was a joy to be with. 

"Wake up Gabe. You're supposed to be watching me, not sleeping offyour hangover."

Gabriel smiled and put his now empty coffee cup down on the control board in front of him. " Pay attention to what you're supposed to be doing. Watch the screen not me. I want a list of the every fifteenth image shown in the last five minutes. And I don't have a hangover!"

"It's too easy, Gabe. Challenge me already!" 

"Do it."

"Blue car; duck; AK-47; fire truck; gattling gun; the L-3 colony cluster; plastic explosives; silver knitting needle and white yarn; color coded map of the United States; my brother Guido on a horse; for some random reason the duck again; red dice reading five and two; a red haired girl in a yellow dress with a black cat; an amethyst crystal on a green table top; an old woman's corpse in a black body bag zippered to the chin- natural death."

" You're getting forty-five images a minute, are you doing all right?"

"I'm fine. Give me at least sixty."

" You've been here for twelve hours, and you haven't missed one yet, do you really want to mess up your streak? Your readout is off the chart; brain activity is… damn…I've never seen anything like this. You've got an impressive record going."

" They don't call it a photographic memory for nothing. No one can touch my record, I'm beating my personal best."

" You're insane." Gabe sighed into the microphone attached to the wall, smiling at the crazy girl.

"And that's why you love me!"

"No I love you because you're the only kid here who can speak to me in English." He reached over to change the rate at which the images were flashed and set it to show seventy a minute.

"Some of the other's can, we just like to hear you butcher the Italian language."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

"Okay give me every seventeenth image flashed since I spilt my coffee."

" Elderly Hispanic priest: close-up, crying; blond girl in a pink prom dress; sniper rifle with laser sight, nice piece; dried daisies in a cut crystal vase; orange lava lamp, groovy" she flashed him a peace sign before rattling on "the Sistine Chapel from the inside; black bear; my grandmother at sixteen; mobile suit carrier; four dead bodies three men one women, shot through the forehead at point blank range. We're heavy on the dead bodies tonight aren't we?"

" It's three in the morning." He blinked as he checked her responses. Perfect. He expected nothing less from the girl, but sometimes it still shocked him that a child the same age as his own son could be so old in her mind. It was sad really. She was so gifted and yet he knew as he glanced sadly into her wise eyes, she had no future. And it was at least partially his fault.

"Well you spend twelve hours strapped to a cold metal table staring at a tv screen and see if you care."

" I may not be on a table, but I've been here as long as you."

" But you get coffee, the magical stuff child genius's dreams are made of."

"Which reminds me I'm out, and I'm tired, so it's time for some caffeine. I'll be back."

He saluted her prone body and walked out of the room with a sharp militaristic turn. He never noticed the coffee that had spilt onto his control board and was slowly creeping down into the delicate machinery below the metal surface.

******

Rowan and Catherine stumbled into the room and were greeted by the sight of Trowa removing the last of the bandages from the girl's wounds. Rowan took a deep breath and stepped over to the small, still unmade bed.

"Tell me what happened to her," the regal old woman commanded, the power in her voice enough to make Trowa reluctantly answer.

"Three gunshot wounds: two to the right arm and one to the upper left side of her chest. The second shot on the arm still has a bullet inside and the one to the chest could be life threatening." He moved away from the young woman and Rowan stepped up, but she stopped him mid step by placing a firm hand in the middle of his chest.

"How?" Her eyes blazed into his, trying to see into them for a clue, but the iron curtain had already slammed down. He was unreadable. She took her hand way and allowed the bay to pass, expecting him to leave the room and take Catherine with him. To her surprise he stopped and picked a rumpled piece of clothing off the floor and went to sit in the trailer's single chair.

"What are you doing?" Catherine asked Rowan's question for her. Trowa refused to answer yet again, silently continuing to move through the jacket's pockets. 

"Humph" Rowan turned her back on the boy and focused her attention on the work that lay ahead of her. Catherine had been right, this girl of Trowa's was in serious trouble, and from the way her skin glimmered slickly with sweat and her eyes moved violently behind her clenched lids she was likely suffering. Biting her lip in a way that made her seem years younger, Rowan raised a pair of surgical scissors and began to cut away the remnants of the girl's bloody shirt. Looking over her shoulder she called to the siblings, her voice leaving no room for argument.

"I'm going to need your help."

******

Suria hummed to herself in the cavernous room, enjoying the way her voice echoed off the walls. The flashing images were of little consequence right now; while Gabe was gone she didn't even bother to look. She tested the bonds on her arms and ankles, finding that Gabe had not done a very good job fastening her to the table. Compressing one tiny hand into a slim pointed shape, she slid it from beneath the metal and set about first releasing her other wrist, then her slim ankles. She sat cross-legged on the cold table top, slowly massaging the life back into her frozen joints. God this was boring. 

Sighing she cracked her neck and stretched out her cramped limbs and leapt gracefully to the floor. She then tore the sticky probes from her forehead, arms, and chest almost violently.The small ten-year-old walked around the edges of the room examining the expensive equipment lined up there. Her eyes flew over the machinery, mentally checking off what each measured: brain activity, heart rate, blood pressure, even one that measured the exact length and width of her brain waves. Then out of the corner of her eye she caught something. A single tendril of silvery smoke drifted up in the control room, spiraling around before creeping out of sight.

The curious child moved closer to the plate glass separating her from the room, trying to see in.

   [1]: mailto:kali296@hotmail.com



	3. Preventer Phoenix Chapter 2

Preventer Phoenix Part Two

Preventer Phoenix Part Two

From the Ashes

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the original characters and the clothes on my back and I actually think my mom bought these pants. 

Notes: Sorry this took so long, I don't have excuses, I'm lazy. I actually kept cursing to a minimum and no too much violence. Yeah for me! Okay please review this thing; I really do need constant evaluation to survive. Enjoy, minna-san!

_Italics indicate flashback_

_The child Suria touched the cool glass with a single finger, trailing it down gently. She pressed close to the window and watched the smoke rising inside, mesmerized by the slowly twisting tendrils floating toward the ceiling. Her eyes traveled down the column to the source of the smoke that was quickly filling the small room. What she saw chilled her to the bone. The control board was sparking like mad, tossing golden sparkles into the air. As she watched the frequency of this sparking intensified and a single offshoot blossomed into flame and traveled quickly across the board. Her breath caught, heartbeat echoing violently in her ears, and she turned away from the glass and began running, a split second before her world exploded into flames and pain._

*****

" Trowa, help us, damn it!" Catherine screamed as she tried to hold the violently struggling, screaming girl down on the bed so Rowan could actually remove the bullet from the girl's arm. The girl bucked hard against Catherine and sent her flying into Trowa as he finally stepped alongside the bed. He steadied her gently and proceeded to the bedside, firmly pinning the girl's shoulders. Catherine returned to Rowan's side and waited expectantly for instructions. Meanwhile, the girl ceased her struggles and her screams returned to harsh, ragged breathing.

"Here", Rowan said handing Catherine a metal bowl containing several pieces of steel from the splintered bullet and no small amount of blood. "It's the best I can do for her, the damn thing practically exploded on impact. Get rid of that, outside. Now girl!" Rowan barked at Catherine when the girl showed no signs of moving, staring at the wounded woman with fear in her eyes. Catherine startled and quickly left the room. Although sorry to lose an assistant, Rowan was relieved to see Catherine leave the room, the girl looked as though she had been about to cry. Rowan turned back to her patient, threading a long, curved needle with black thread and proceeded to stitch the bullet hole up. The girl hissed, but otherwise behaved, eyes closed, trying to regulate her breathing. Trowa let go of her shoulders but stayed close at hand.

Rowan cautiously began to unwrap her final wound, the potentially fatal shot her chest. Under normal circumstances she would have treated this first, but had wanted to remove all the shrapnel she could from the arm wound before it was pulled further into the body. Now as she gasped sharply and loudly at the wounds severity, she regretted that choice.

"How bad is it?" a voice she had never heard before rasped, breaking the silence of the room. Her head snapped up realizing the voice belonged to the girl, who she had assumed merely passed out minutes ago when the screaming stopped. 

" I don't know" Rowan answered truthfully, avoiding looking into her eyes at any cost.

"Then how come you can't look at my face?" the voice continued with an almost amused lilt.

Rowan looked from cleaning the wound to study the face presented to her. The skin was pale and yellowish, her lips cracked and raw, a red too bright to seem natural. Her thick black locks were slicked back from her face with sweat and a glossy sheen coated her features. Half-lidded, golden eyes looked deep into hers before the girl let her head flop back down with a sigh, eyes becoming unfocused once more. 

Rowan began to work again but suddenly the girl pushed her out of the way with surprising strength that sent her careening into the wall. She banged hard against it and felt all the air leave her lungs with a single violent puff as she slid down the wall to sit in a crumpled heap on the floor. Gasping for air, she glanced up just in time to see the girl grasp Trowa by his shoulders and pull herself up so their faces were mere inches apart. 

"Listen to me," she spoke quickly and sharply but still managing to keep her voice level and calm, eyes boring into his, "if I die you have to get this information to the rest. They call themselves the Terran Alliance; they want revenge against the colonies. They'll get it too; they have both the means and the intelligence to do it. There are enough Mobile Suits in Seville alone to destroy a colony and they have bases all over the world. Tell Une not to hold back, destroy them all or peace will exist only as a pipe dream once again!" Her voice wavered suddenly and she fell back against her pillow, still pulling Trowa with her. "Please", she whispered, dropping her hands from him, "you must." Her head rolled to the side, eyes closed once more, mouth open with a ribbon of bright blood beginning to trickle from her lips.

Trowa stared at her prone form, eyes wide, lips parted, breathing deeply suddenly. He moved to place his fingers along her neck. "No pulse" he said, something akin to anger creeping into his voice. He began to pump her chest with both hands counting to himself before bending to cover her mouth with his. Rowan watched him from her position on the floor, scared senseless. If that girl was telling the truth… she couldn't even think about it. Trowa looked at her then and she was startled by the ferocity in his eyes. "Help her," he yelled, his sharp voice and blazing stare bringing her back to her senses.

Gathering herself into a standing position she moved to the bedside again and pushed away the mass of bloodstained sheets. Deftly she pushed two fingers into the girls open mouth and sent a piece of clear plastic tubing down her windpipe. Pushing on a clear balloon type bag to the top of the tube she instructed Trowa to pump it while she worked on the ragged bullet hole. At this point blood was pouring from the wound at an alarming rate, soaking into the mattress beneath her. Rowan grunted harshly as she pushed aside skin and muscle around the wound, no longer worried about being gentle. She felt for any internal damage, concluding that there had been minimal damage to her organs and little damage to the surrounding muscles and tissue. The collarbone was broken in two places but fixable.The bullet had nicked the top of her left lung but it would heal easily if stitched up now before any more blood found it's way into her lings. Rowan worked fast and furiously, her needle flying in and out of the open cavity, Trowa pushing air back into the girl's lungs all the while. She sealed the entry wound on her chest and the exit wound on her back, praying the girl would hold on long enough without a blood transfusion. 

Rowan pushed back from the body and looked at Trowa who met her eyes expectantly. "Did we get a pulse back?" she asked her voice weary.

"Yes, but it's faint."

"As long as it's there the poor child has a chance. I don't know if she can survive the blood loss." Rowan brushed tendrils of the girl's hair away from her face tenderly. "Fight for a little longer, child," she whispered to her still frame, smiling sadly. When she straightened Trowa was already inserting a long needle connected to a thin plastic tube into the veins in the crook of his left elbow. "What the hell are you doing?!"she demanded in horror as his blood began to enter the tube.

Trowa ignored her question and slid a second needle into the girl's arm and squeezed his hand into a fist to fill the tube faster. 

Rowan nodded silently, resigned to his actions, her eyes suddenly watery. Her body and soul were exhausted; she had no will left to fight him. He was right after all, the girl had said that there were bases all over the world and right know the only person who knew their location could very well be dying in a circus trailer in Spain. 

******

Gabriel felt the explosion rock the building and immediately knew where it had come from. Dropping his now forgotten mug of fresh coffee he took off for dead sprint for the room in which he had left Suria. He punched his code into the plate outside the door and the smoking door to the control room slid opened. He jumped back as flames rushed into the hallway, eager for more oxygen. Once the initial burst subsided, he stumbled forward into the room, arm held over his eyes to protect him from the licking flames. 

"Suria! Suria answer me!" he yelled, desperately hoping she had somehow survived the explosion. A glance into the room stole this illusion from him. The huge screen that had stretched across the ceiling to broadcast images had fallen directly onto the metal table the tiny girl had been securely strapped to. This piece of machinery had too burst into flame, obscuring his vision of the remnants of the table. A yell of pure grief tore itself from his throat. The scream was wordless, a simple unnerving shriek of tortured anguish. "You little bitch, you can't be dead yet, do you hear me?! Do you hear me?!!"

Gabe hung his head as tears filled his eyes, stinging from the heat. Looking once more at the flame filled room, he yelled her name in desperation one last time and flew from the room, letting it slam shut beside him. Once in the hallway, which was slowly beginning to catch as well, he cracked open a glass case on the wall and pulled out the fire extinguisher form within. With tears leaking down his face he put out the fire in the hall then reached back into the case. There he pressed a button, one that signaled the release of a fire quenching and lethal chemical into the control room and the adjoining area. With Suria dead he could at least try to save some of the expensive equipment in the room, knowing his employers would be angry if they lost both such an exceptional operative and millions of dollars worth of machinery. He laughed bitterly to himself at the thought and wiped the tears from his face with the backs of his fire-blackened hands. Maybe he was no better than those bastards after all.

He sat in that hallway for what seemed like hours but was in fact only a few minutes before a small light beside the button that had released the chemical began to glow green. With this he ran his fingers through his hair and stood to set about the inevitable task of retrieving Suria's body. His mind wandered slightly to her parents and brothers, such a happy blind little family. Never noticing just how incredibly smart their daughter was, nor how much trouble she was in. In the end they loved her, he could imagine their reactions when they were told some bullshit story about her death, it would probably be set up to look as though it were her fault, too much investigation into this school and they would be found out. They would cheapen her memory to cover their own asses and he would go along with it anyway. He slid open the control room door.

He was immediately hit with a puff of ash that filled his lungs and caused him to break into a hacking cough. He broke the remaining shards of melted glass from the window frame and jumped into the room sending more clouds of ash into the air. There was practically nothing left. Even with his quick response time he had barely managed to salvage the machinery that was the farthest away from the control room. Everything was covered in a fine gray layer of ash and the now neutralized chemical compound. He slowly made his way toward the center table, dreading finding that tiny body, most likely crushed completely by the falling screen. It was then that a small movement in the far corner caught his eye. 

A sheet of metal heaved up and down as though it were breathing. The sheet was suddenly thrown aside with tremendous force, sending up clouds of gray dust. When they cleared he saw a small figure standing erect, silhouetted against the falling ash. Suria Giotto stepped forward into the light and Gabe stepped back, tripping in his shock and landing on the floor hard. She was completely gray, covered head to foot in the fine powder except for the bright red gash leaking down her forehead and the blackened bloody burns on the right side of her back and stomach. He crossed himself fervently as she continued to walk toward him. 

"I thought you were dead," he whispered.

She stopped in her tracks her face completely calm, eyes empty, devoid of any life. She looked at him silently for a moment with those unnerving eyes before speaking.  
"I was," she sighed before continuing past him to step through the shattered window and into the light of the hallway. Gabe sat stunned in the center of the room panting as the dust settled on him. In his shocked state an after image burned onto his retinas, Suria rising from the floor, rising from the dead, and then suddenly this image was swallowed by a second: a shining red bird rising from the flames. His lips parted and an almost inaudible word slipped out.

"Phoenix."

******

The harsh light of midday woke her from her deep peaceful sleep. She felt the heat blazing through her closed eyelids making her see infinite blaze of red and orange. The coarse fabric of the sheets rubbed soothingly across her bared skin as she began to shift. Without opening her eyes she turned her head away from the light and was once again bathed in cool twilight. It was then she felt the searing pain in her chest, a product of her movement. She groaned in pain and finally opened her swollen eyes to survey the damage to her body. Glancing at her heavily bandaged shoulder and arm she decided that whoever that old woman had been, she had done a decent job of patching her up. 

She sat up instantly when she remembered where she was and what she was doing there. "Shit!" she exclaimed at the pain when she moved so quickly, the magnitude multiplied a hundred fold. She gritted her teeth and breathed deeply, air hissing between her teeth. Whimpering slightly, she clutched her shoulder and realized that in addition to the gunshot wounds her collarbone had to be broken. She tested this by raising her arm, an exercise in futility that resulted in another string of nearly yelled profanity.

She took a moment to take in her surroundings while recovering from her ill-advised movement. The room was nearly empty, furnished solely with the hard bed she lay on, a single metal-framed chair, a small television set against the bare wall, and a desk with an complex looking computer and video phone set on top. A single door off to the left provided the only entrance and exit to the room. The computer perked her interest, the expensive machinery belaying the seeming simplicity of the room. She eyed the computer hungrily, wondering if she should chance breaking into it to get in touch with Sally. 

Suria began lifting herself form the bed, her good arm tightly clasping the sheet tightly about her chest to hide her nudity. As she swung her legs over the side, the single door to the room opened, banging into the wall loudly. An elderly woman she barely recognized as the same woman who had saved her life stood in the doorway precariously balancing a basket brimming with freshly laundered bed sheets. She stared openmouthed at the girl sitting up in the bed, long legs sticking out of the sheet twisted around her body. A long silent moment passed between the two women as they stared at each other.

"What in God's name do you think you are doing?" Rowan exclaimed dropping her basket to the floor and moving quickly to her side. "You nearly died, actually you should have died, yesterday morning and you've been unconscious ever since, yet you are still stupid enough to try to get out of bed! What is running through your mind child?!" Rowan shrieked at the girl, a mixture of anger and fear in her eyes as she forced the young woman back into a lying position. 

"Please, I have to…" Suria began but was cut off immediately.

"You have to stay in this bed until I tell you differently" Rowan said with an air of finality, pushing her down as she struggled to sit up once more. Suria collapsed against the thin white pillow, exhausted from even such slight movement. She sighed resignedly as the woman rattled on.

"You're lucky, you know that? Here let go of that sheet and let me have a look at the wounds." Suria complied with the request and let the woman poke and prod the slowly forming bruises around her major wound. "I don't know if I even want to know what happened to you. Roll onto your side. It's your own fault though, going around with that boy, you're bound to get yourself into trouble…"

"What boy?" Suria asked, genuinely puzzled by the woman's statement. Vague images, fuzzy at the edges formed in her mind: a long body arcing in the air trailing a thin line of blood, the sun glinting off light brown hair and a sharper memory of the most beautiful green eyes she had ever seen.

"Trowa," the lady responded, not understanding the girl's question. "You are his friend, right? He saved your life, I assumed you knew him…"

Realizing what the woman was hinting at, Suria shook her head, remembering the deep soothing baritone that accompanied those bottomless eyes

If you must call me something my name is Trowa Barton.

When she had first met him she had been too delirious to realize the importance of the name, but now she had the clarity to remember what it meant.

He was a Gundam pilot and he was in terrible danger. 

Just then she felt Rowan's soft touch move from the back of her shoulder and trail down her smooth skin to settle on the lower right side of her back. Suria knew the woman was looking at, the fine web of burn scars that trailed across her lower back and around to her stomach. She stiffened noticeably and Rowan stopped her examination to roll the girl onto her back and look into her face.

"Are you all right?" Rowan's voice was quiet and accompanied by a tiny smile.

"Absolutely. I… I'm worried about his wound, that's all." Suria grasped for something to hide her true thoughts, wondering just how much the woman knew. 

"What wound?" 

"He was shot, in the leg."

Rowan cursed under her breath in a dialect even Suria, who prided herself on her extensive knowledge of languages, couldn't decipher. 

"That idiot!" Rowan said with a certain fondness that betrayed her anger at Trowa. "My name is Rowan Sayers by the way."

"Phoenix," Suria said extending her hand as far as possible without causing the searing pain to cross her body. "Thank you." Rowan disguised her surprise at the girl's name but not soon enough. Suria saw the familiar widening of the eyes that came when she said her name, a mythical creature she took on as her persona long before she joined the Preventers. The bird that died a spectacular death only to rise from the ashes of it's own demise. It fit her perfectly.

Rowan reached to grasp Phoenix's outstretched hand, lacing her gnarled hand with the girl's flawless youthful fingers. She felt the strength of the young woman's hold, the calluses thick on her palm. Rowan looked into the girl's eyes and was immediately sorry she had. They were beautiful, yes, but in that instant she could have sworn they held the flames of hell itself.Dropping her gaze at the same second she dropped Phoenix's hand, Rowan backed away from the bed, nearly stumbling over her own feet. Collecting herself she busied herself by picking up the basket of sheets she had been carrying in and pulling a select few out to lie neatly folded on the chair. 

"I'll go get you some water and tell Trowa you're awake. He wanted to speak to you immediately after you woke up, if you woke up at all. You are…lucky." She left with basket once again tucked under her arm, swinging slightly against her hip as she leaned heavily against her cane. 

Suria watched her go and then closed her eyes and stretched her legs out, toes touching every corner of the bed. Arching her back she felt several vertebrae pop as she tried to wake her body up. She sighed heavily and turned onto her side again, careful to not put too much pressure on her injured limbs. Only someone as unlucky as she was could manage to injure both arms so badly.She smiled bitterly to herself, Rowan had called her lucky. From this angle she could just barely see out the window to the gorgeous blue sky above, framed to the left by the dark tips of evergreens. Up until now she had been so focused on her wounds she hadn't noticed the sounds filtering in from outside the trailer. Loud birds cried from the nearby forest. Friendly calls filled the air, interspersed with laughter. The occasional trumpet of an elephant reached her ears.

'Wait a second, elephants?!'

. 


End file.
